to the nest and arranged the feather.

"When she returned she took my place on the fence. Now my wife and I
look very much alike, and though she cannot perform quite as nimbly as
I, the children did not know when we changed places.

"While the children watched her I flew to the nest with my bit of moss.

"'What a pity!' said the little girl, as we flew away laughing to
ourselves. 'They stopped to play and they lost the bits of moss and
feathers with which they meant to make their nest!'

"'Chick-a-dee! Chick-a-dee! Chick-a-dee!' called back my wife
happily."

All this time Phyllis's eyes were growing rounder and bigger.

"Why," said she, "I never knew there was but one bird performing on the
fence. I thought the other flew away!"

"That was because Mrs. Chickadee and I look so much alike," replied Mr.
Chickadee.

"But we did find your nest a few days later," said Phyllis. "In it
were six small white eggs covered with tiny red specks. We went to
look at the nest every day until the eggs hatched. Then we went
several times a day until the baby birds learned to fly and left the
nest empty.

"But you did not disturb us," said the chickadee, "though we were
dreadfully frightened at first."

At that moment a great soft snowball went plump! against Phyllis's red
cap.

"Jack!" she cried, scrambling off the fence and running after the boy
with the scratch on his nose. "Jack, take me for a ride on your sled!"

Then she looked back. The chickadee now sat in the tree-top.

"Tell Mrs. Chickadee," called Phyllis, "that I shall spread some more
crumbs and seeds on the white table-cloth this afternoon. We'll hang
another bone in the cedar-tree, too!"

"Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!" cried the little bird in a flutter of delight.

TWENTY LITTLE CHICKADEES

Twenty little chickadees,
Sitting in a row;
Twenty pairs of naked feet
Buried in the snow.
I should think you'd fly away
Where the weather's warm,
Then you wouldn't have to be
Out there in the storm.

Sorry little chickadees,
Don't you know the way?
Can't you find the road to go
Where 'tis always May?
Robins all have found it out,
Wrens and bluebirds too,
Don't you wish you'd thought to ask
Ere away they flew?

THE SNOWBIRD'S SONG[1]

The ground was all covered with snow, one day,
And two little sisters were busy at play--
A snowbird was sitting close by on a tree,
And merrily sing